I don't know why it's taken me this long to figure this out.  I mean, I've always known, ever since that day.  But I never actually sat down and worked out exactly how much it was.  Now that I have, I kind of wish I hadn't.

My father died in the year 2000.  It's been twenty years since his death.  He didn't have a will, so everything went to my mother.  Which really sucked, because I've been super poor for all of my adult life, except for one year when my husband was literally working almost every day of the week, due to him being the only employee.  That year was great financially, because we could afford our son's braces payments, as well as not play the whole "put off this bill to pay that bill" game we usually played each month.  Then, after about a year, his boss then hired more employees, and we went back to being so poor that we had to have our son's braces removed early.  And the only reason his braces payments were so high was because my mother had said to us beforehand "I'll pay for half of his down payment, so that way your monthly payments will be lower".  So we made the appointment and got them put on, and lo and behold, she refused to pay for half.  So we had to pay for the cheaper down payment, which made our monthly payments more than double what they were supposed to be.

Let me make something VERY clear here: I've never once asked her do these things for us.  I've never came to her and said "Hey can you pay for half of whatever?"  No, she offers.  She literally comes up with the ideas to do these things in the first place.  We were going to wait to get our son braces, even though several dentists told us he needed them so badly that if we didn't, his bottom teeth would eventually be gone.  We just couldn't afford it.  So she heard about what was going on and said "Look, he needs those braces, I'll pay for half your down payment and then you can actually afford to get them.  So go do it!"  So we did.  And then it came time for payment and she acted like she had never offered to begin with.  That was the last time we let her offer to pay for anything.  The only reason now we allow her to pay for half of everything (we all live together in the same house) is because I am in charge of the bills.  So she can't stiff us anymore (though she does try).  

None of that has anything to do with the money she owes me, other than the fact I'm trying to paint you a picture of what she's like with money.  If it doesn't benefit her, she won't do it.  If it does benefit her, she will do whatever she can to keep it.  And I mean whatever she can.  Including stealing it from me.

So that brings us back to 2009.  My father had been dead for nine years by then.  My mother did not have to get a single job during that time.  Read that again.  NINE.  FREAKING YEARS.  She literally lived for all that time on my father's insurance money.  She had so much money, she had no idea what to do with it all.  So she spent it.  And spent it.  She first off renovated the house.  Like months after he died.  Then when that didn't get the money out of her pocket fast enough, she ran to QVC and spent and spent and spent, so much so that QVC would call her if she went a single day without buying from them.  When that didn't work, she invested and lost a ton of it.  When that didn't work, she bought a cruise to Alaska for her and her neighbor.  Ah.  That did it.  That got that last little bit out of her pocket.  

And during this entire time my family and I were struggling with poverty.  We lived in a dump, in an unsafe neighborhood and tried not to get shot or robbed each and every day.  We had our heat shut off more years than I care to admit (we became pros at living without hot water or a stove to use).  We were at the food pantry regularly.  Most of the time our food stamps didn't last enough for us, even though we had a "no frills" life.  We just couldn't make our money stretch.  All the while my mother just couldn't burn a hole in her pocket fast enough, as though she was allergic to all that money.  And yet, it still took her nine years to burn through it all.  

Can you imagine living for long without having to work and be so well off that you can't spend it fast enough?  None of those life insurance policies were in my name.  Not one.  And in our state, if you die without a will, your spouse gets everything.

Except one thing.  

The house.  

So nine years goes by and she decides she can't live there anymore.  She ran out of money and can't afford it.  The house was paid off in 1994.  But in 1998 my parents got a loan to buy a car.  I think my father took out a second mortgage?  I'm not sure.  But it wasn't a small loan.  And it was definitely more than than for the the car, as my parents took a trip the Black Hills in South Dakota right after buying it.  

Apparently, my mother did not pay off that loan with any of the insurance money.  Because when all of a sudden she didn't have anymore money to live, she still needed money to pay off that loan.  So what did she decide to do?  Move in with her brother and sell the house. 

Now, I assumed it was my parents' house.  It wasn't.  It was my father's.  His was the only name on the house, because all of a sudden, out of the blue, she says to me "Shay, I need you to come sign some papers.  I can't sell the house unless you do."  

I was dumb back then.  I didn't question her.  I didn't think she was capable of horrible things yet (though, I was aware she could do terrible things...I just chose to forget about them back then).  I didn't think anything of it.  I figured it was just legal shit that I was too dumb to understand at the time.  I had no idea how house sales worked.  I had no idea how anything worked.  Yes, I was in my early thirties.  I should have known these things.  But I didn't.  Even though we just bought a house two years prior, I still had no idea what I was doing, as our house was only in my husband's name, too.  It wasn't until this year, in 2020 when we bought this house I finally even understood  any of it.  I am still having a hard time figuring out what escrow means, but I think I kind of get it LOL  But back then I just thought "I have to sign papers, must not mean anything at all."  Today? I would say "Um, why do I have to sign anything?  What do I have to do with any of this?"  But no, early 30's Shay was dumb Shay and I just showed up and did what I was asked to do.

But also, back then?  I was still under my mother's spell.  I hadn't even started this blog yet.  I didn't what narcissism was.  I didn't get it.  And I sat down at the table with the buyer (a house flipper) and put my pen to the paper.  But then something crazy happened.  He touched my arm to stop me before I finished and said:

"You do realize you're signing away your half of the house, right?  That you're legally entitled to half of this money?"  

I just stared at him.  What??  What did he just say?  Um, no, I had no freaking clue at of this at all, sir, and thank you kindly for informing me because, um, nobody else did.  I didn't say anything to him though, I just stared at him.

I then turned to look at my mother, who quickly looked away from me and then looked up at me and widened her eyes as though to say "Do this, or else."  So I slowly nodded and turned back to the paper.  I numbly signed my name as my heart started feeling like it was beating out of my chest.  What was my mother doing here?  Why didn't she tell me?  Why did she lie to me?  She was duping me out of my rightful money and I just sat there, thinking "What am I supposed to do now?  Say no?"  How could I?  I was put in that position on purpose so when I found out, she knew I would not back down.  

But had I known how much it was??  I would have taken that money and not looked back.  Fuck it if she was mad at me.  Fuck it if that messed up her chance to pay back a loan that was going on for NINE FREAKING YEARS that she could have already paid off probably ten times over.  I could have had a car that worked.  My husband could have even had his own car.  We weren't the type of people who bought extravagant things.  We would have stretched that shit out as far as we could have and would have been blessed by it.  Unlike crazy woman over here buying silly shit on QVC daily she'd LITERALLY USE ONCE AND DONATE IT!!! 

I was at the food pantry several times a month at that point in our lives.  We were living on fumes.  And I never even saw the check.  So I had no idea how much money she even got until yesterday, when I looked at the sale of our house in 2009 and how much it sold for.  $56,0000 she got handed that day.  She had already blown through hundreds of thousands.  And now she had fifty-six thousand more.  All the while her only child and only two grandchildren and her son-in-law stood in line at the food pantry each week and our house was falling apart.  During this time also, my ex had given up parental rights to our boys, so we had no more child support from him.  

I don't want you to get the wrong idea here.  I don't want you think I'm playing the victim here.  Like, "Oh poor us, we're so poor, and we think that my mother should just give us all her money!"  No way.  that money was plain and simple not hers to keep from me.  What I'm trying to say is that knowing jsut how poor we were, she used that against us.  She didn't want me to be well off.  Because how could she control me or my family if we were?  Money was her only way to feel powerful in life.  She's not too smart and has never once been able to join in complicated conversations that us four have, and can't really add to a whole lot of conversations in general with anyone for that same reason.  Which I get makes her feel powerless in life.  All she's ever had really to offer in life are: 

• Gossip
• Money
• Cooking (though she's really bad at it for the most part, even though she prides herself on it)
• Smoking and drinking (though she doesn't drink anymore, thank goodness)
• Stories about her cats (I have to hear one more time about the cat who tried to bite her nipple, I swear to god...)
• Guilt and denial (she's an expert at the latter, but the former never really works out for her)

That's it.  So if she can keep my family in poverty, it benefits her greatly because she couldn't hold me hostage with her smarts, but she certainly could with money. 

I know our poorness was, and still is and always will be, my fault.  I have a severe anxiety disorder and hadn't worked since my kids were little and even then, holding down a job was always hard due to this anxiety disorder.  So I don't have enough credits for disability (and plus, you need to earn those credits in a span of 10 years, and I was busy raising my kids, all the while with my panic disorder, so I didn't work for over 10 years).  And I can't take meds for my disorder since I have horrible (and I mean horrible) side effects to SSRI's and other anxiety meds.  So my family is and always will be fucked by my inability to work.  This I know.  And I don't expect handouts in the form of "Oh mommy, give me money!"  This is not what I am talking about here.  (Also, let me add that I wish I would have known this is how it would have turned out, I would have gotten on disability back then when I had to quit my last job due to my anxiety...I just held out hope I'd get better...I never did.) 

What I'm talking about here is the fact that I legally, and rightfully had money in my name that could have made my life, and the lives of my family, easier.  Maybe not for nine entire years, but for at least some time.  This fact was hidden from me and I was lied to about it and then put in a position to have to give it up without a fight.  I could have said no.  Sure.  I could have looked at that guy and said "What?  No way, I want my money!"  But I assumed my mother would be fucked without it.  I had no idea how much it was. I had no idea how much she owed.  But today I realize that she wouldn't have been fucked at all.  She wouldn't have been homeless.  Not much would have changed for her.  She would have had bad credit, that's it.  She still would have moved in with her brother.  And she'd still have her car.  What she would have lost by not paying her loan back was nothing in compared to what my family could have gained by us getting that money.

$28,000 may sound like chump change to someone people.  But for people who are poor?  It could mean the difference between keeping a job or not.  If our one car would have broken down?  My husband would have not been able to get to work anymore.  And he'd have been out of a job.  And if he was out of a job, we'd have lost our house.  And since my mother had sold my childhood home, we'd have nowhere to live.  That means, if my ex hadn't given up his rights, I could have lost custody of my kids.  It's amazing just how much of a poor person's life, who lives check to check, hangs in the balance of such a simple thing as a car.  Something we all take for granted when our cars are working well.  

I will never see that money.  Not a single cent of it.  And I am okay with that.  Not because I think it's okay what she did.  Obviously it wasn't okay at all.  But I can't change it.  I can't go back in time and do one thing about it.  And if I had taken that money, and she got fucked on her loan, maybe we wouldn't have been able to all move in together right this year?  Maybe her credit would have been completely messed up?  Getting this house wasn't easy.  I was in charge of all of it.  And I had to really work my ass off to get the mortgage company to even let the loan go through because of my mother's messed up rent history.    She paid rent, but she had ZERO ways to prove it since she rented from a friend and never thought to get receipts.  So I can't be super angry about this because we may not have a place to live right now had anything else been different in our past.  

BUT.  

But but but.  

That doesn't change what she did to us.  But then again, I'll just add it to the list of all the ways in which she's tried to fuck my family over: like the one time she called had my food stamp card canceled because she was mad at me back in 2013, or knowing my family came back from being homeless in 2018 with only the clothes on our backs and refused to take us to the food pantry and was going to let us starve, all because she was pissed I was no contact with her for eighteen months, or maybe how she was angry with us years ago and bought my youngest son over $100 worth of Christmas gifts and then spent $1 on my oldest son as punishment for calling her names (which he didn't do, her stupid friend lied to her and said he did).  It was always money, too.  As that was the only control she had over our lives.  That's the only control she's ever had over my life.  Even as a child.  My mother doesn't have hobbies.  She doesn't have viewpoints.  She doesn't have anything of her own.  She will assimilate whatever you are or whatever you think (or the opposite, if she hates you).  The only thing she's ever had in life is other people's money.  My dad's or her second husband's.  She even knowingly stole money from the government just so her stepdaughters wouldn't get it.  And she will act all high and mighty about how much money she has (the more she has, the more horrible her personality gets) as though somehow she earned it herself.  It's actually quite hilarious, because everyone around her knows the truth.  

Now, like I said, I don't work.  But I know very well the money we have isn't earned by me.  I don't lord it over anyone else or use it to hurt others.  We don't have much, but what we do have extra of we always give to homeless people.  My husband and I will take out cash when we can, just so we have something to give to anyone who needs it.  It feels so good to know that that person may get to eat dinner that night.  I know how it feels to be hungry and to find $5 in a coat pocket and say "Oh my god, we can actually feed our family tonight!"  So I know that $5 can stretch pretty far, so whenever we can, we give that much or more to someone who's hungry.  

My mother, on the other hand, would tell a homeless person to get a job and fuck off.  As though my mother has had a job in over forty years.  No, she was married twice to dying men who left her all their money.  And now she collects her second husband's social security, as well as his agent orange payments.  

I'm not shaming her for not working.  I'm shaming her because she thinks the world owes her everything.  I don't think the world owes me shit.  I think she does.  I know she owes me twenty-eight thousand fucking dollars.  And I know I'll never get it.  Instead, I have to find a way to make my own living in life that doesn't require me to marry dying men who will leave me their life insurance policies.  We can't even afford to have one.  So if my husband dies tomorrow?  For so many reasons, I don't even want to think about that (most of all, because I love the shit out of him).  

Maybe my memoir will take off?  I'm almost done writing it.  Well, I am done, but I'm almost done editing it.  Kinda.  I'm ADHD so it's hard to stay on task.  But I'm getting there.  I also write fiction, so maybe that'll take off?  Well, probably not, but hey, it's something to try, right?  I need to do something though, because the idea of living in my ex-husband's barn without him knowing if something ever happened to my actual husband?  Is just to terrifying to think about.  *shudder*

Our future plan includes buying RV's because if we ever became homeless again, at least we'd have somewhere to sleep (in 2018 we faced the prospect of living in a tent...I never want to be that close to the edge again, ever).  

Anyways, it's better to live for the future than think about the past when there's nothing you can do to change things.  That's called Radical Acceptance.  I can't ever get that money back.  It's not possible.  So all I can do is look towards the future and find a way to do better.  Now, I was pissed when I found this out.  I was angry as fuck.  But today? Not so much.  I can't care about it because if I do, I will make myself sick.  And I deserve better than that.  I can't hurt myself when she's not actively hurting me, just because I am so used to being hurt I don't know how to live otherwise.  I have to learn how to live otherwise.  I have to learn to let the bullshit go and move forward.  My rule in life lately is let something make me angry for a day at the most, and then let it go as much as I can.  Otherwise SAD will catch up again with me this year and I don't want that.  Not again.  I am determined to enjoy this winter.  Even with all this pandemic shit.  

I think I'll get one of those fake checks from The Secret (the movie) online somewhere and write myself one for $28,000 and see what happens.  Who knows, maybe the universe will step in?  Can't hurt, right?  

Happy Thanksgiving, my friends.  I hope your holiday is boring and pandemic free (just like I hope mine is!) 

So my mother bought a shirt online and got it today.  It says "Mama Bear" on it.  And it irritates me to no end.  Now, my mother does not consider herself a "mama bear", which is better than if she did.  She bought it because she has a cat named Bear she's obsessed with (she has 8 cats and he's the only one she obsesses over, though this could be because of dementia....my grandmother obsessed over her cat, too, but she only had 1).  But it still irks me, because of what "Mama Bear" really means.  I've never experienced having a mother love me so much that she'll fiercely protect me whenever I needed it.  Not once.  Not when I was sick.  Not when I was hurt.  Not when others were hurting me.  Never.  Yes, she stuck up for me at times, but only when she absolutely had to (meaning when she had no other choice).  That's it.  She doesn't care about me the way she cares about her cat.  Though I wouldn't want her to.  It's a little obsessive and over the top.  She walks around all day and yells for him out front and back, like really, really loudly.  Like the poor cat can't have a life of his own.  He has to conform to what my mother wants for him, every minute of every single day.  If he was a human, I'd feel really bad for him.  As a cat, though, he just does want he wants anyways (I have some respect for his rebellious nature, he reminds me of me when I was young).  

I think what bothers me is that I've always been a "mama bear" type of personality.  You don't fuck with my family (my hubby, kids, and pets) because I will fiercely stand up for them when I need to.  I also don't let people fuck with the poor, with animals, or with kids.  I will fiercely protect anyone I see being abused or mistreated.  I grew up without a single person every protecting me (though that's not entirely true, as my mother did do some things to protect me when I was really little, though not enough) so I feel this innate need to protect everyone else.  And I've come to realize, that not all people want my protection, so I've had to learn to back off at times.  

As for my kids, as a "mama bear", I've had to learn to back off as they age, and let them fight their own battles.  That's so very hard, because I hate seeing anyone shit on people I love.  Same goes for my husband.  I've had to bite my tongue more than a million times with his parents (though not anymore) back in the day because I didn't have the right to take over someone else's pain and act as though it was my own.  I think that's what it is in life, with us "mama bears".  Every time someone hurts someone we love, it reactivates our own inner unhealed pain and we get a little over the top with our protection. 

Once, I saw some assholes in line with my kid at the food court at the mall, whispering about him and pointing.  So I got real close to them and stared at them until they noticed and they got super uncomfortable and left LOL  My son said I embarrassed him.  And I did.  I didn't mean to.  But I was beyond livid that someone would treat my child that way.  I love my kids, fiercely, though maybe a little too fiercely at times.  I think deep down I act the way I wish someone would have acted for me.  Though I used to be worse with it, because not only was the incidents reactivating my own pain, but now you're fucking with my kid, too.  So I'm double mad.  

I've curbed that behavior, thank goodness.  I found Buddhism and I'm much more chill.  I now don't overreact, but just respond to those types of things.  If I could go back to that food court, I'd just have cleared my throat at those young people to let them know I saw them being jerks, rather than make them scared of me.  I used to say "Why are people so scared of me?" to my husband.  I kind of realize now why.  Angry people are unpredictable.  I know, I've seem people literally go insane over nothing (esp. with road rage).  

So maybe being a "mama bear" is just being overreactive and not something to proud of?  Granted, you can be a "mama bear" just being an advocate for your child, and not his/her fierce protector.  You can stand up for someone without being angry.  Being a "bear" suggests you are angry.  I don't want to be angry again.  I want to be "mama zen" instead.  A mama (and wife and friend and stranger) who advocates for people who need me to with kindness.  Yes, you gotta get angry sometimes (or rather, forceful, not actually angry).  You have to push when you need to (like my son needs a specialist and his doc is being an ass about getting him one).  But you don't have to tear someone's face off about it.  

So ma can have her shirt.  She can be a mama bear for her cat.  I don't need her to be my mother at all anymore,  I am my own mother (and she hasn't been my mother since 2012 when I found out she has NPD).  I advocate for myself.  I take care of myself.  I always have.  Not that well, in the past, but nowadays, yes.  I don't have to let the pain of my childhood dictate what type of parent I am.  I have the full ability to heal myself without my mother's help or apologies or acknowledgement of her abuse.  I can be Mama Zen, if I choose it.  I don't have to be angry anymore.  At her (though that's hard, because she tries relentlessly to anger me LOL).  At my past.  Or at myself.  Or at others for triggering me.  I can't just "let it all go" (like people like to tell us to do).  But I can work with it, heal it, and transform it, as I've been doing for the past two years.  

This shirt issue triggered me more than it should have.  But now I know why.  And I can move on from it and not take offense about it.  Because it has nothing to do with me at all.  Though, that's kind of what triggered me to begin with.  But even so, I don't need a "mama bear".  I never did.  I needed someone to love me.  And now I don't need her love to feel complete anymore.  So that's what matters.  I need to remember that when I get angry about stupid things like this.  I am complete even without her love.  

Now, I'm going to go high-five her cat for defying her every single day, because I love his little rebellious soul LOL